EighteenThey were still on Nestor's living room floor but Ben's mind had taken flight. He'd returned to the rear compartment of their ambulance, reliving that trip to the hospital. Cooper was there, holding her injured arm, but he was busy pouring water on the patient, Soomnalung, holding his mask while he screamed, 'Aswan', 'Mennon', 'Gal', and 'Tick, tick, tick', like a coked-up clock.
Aswan. Aswan? Had Nestor heard Angelina right? He was upset. He'd been drinking. She was hurt. Going back, had he heard Soomnalung right? He was out of his mind with pain. Maybe he hadn't said any such thing? Aswan? A demon?
Nestor broke Ben's concentration. “Do you believe me?”
“I don't know a thing about monsters or demons,” Ben said. “I know you. I believe you are telling me what you believe is true.
